


Blythe Spirit

by butterflydreaming (chrysalisdreams)



Series: Fusenkago: Rearranging the Flowers [6]
Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrysalisdreams/pseuds/butterflydreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fujitaka is haunted by his wife's ghost. Implied FujitakaxMaki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blythe Spirit

Nothing was right to say, so Fujitaka said nothing. Why, of all times, would Nadeshiko pick _this time_ to appear? Her silent ghost smiled benevolently as it stood, bottoms of her feet just above the floor, beside the unmade bed. She reached out with a hand he could see through. This time, instead of answering her beckoning, he turned back to folding his shirts and putting them into his suitcase. He attempted to ignore Nadeshiko. She remained. She lifted both arms out to him, calling him into her embrace, but Fujitaka thought about the emptiness of that embrace, the lack of anything _to_ embrace. He removed his glasses. It helped only marginally, because he could still sense her close presence; he didn't have to actually see her to know when she was near.

He had thought it would be wonderful to know that she was near; he had thought that it meant that they were together again, he and the only woman he had ever loved, his wife. He had been wrong. He would reach for her hand and his hand would pass right through. Her hair had no weight, and her lips had no texture. It was worse than fantasy. She didn't speak, and the pantomimes that were sweet, at first, grew more and more bittersweet. He used to be able to sometimes put her out of his mind so that he could work and go on with his life. Since the time that he had gained the ability to see Nadeshiko, she was always with him. If she was not actually near, he still knew that she could appear at any moment. She would present herself, ever smiling, and he was not always ready to see her.

The first time that he crossed running water, he felt like a cheating husband. Crowded public places, currents of humanity, also bought him a protective shell. Busy streets in the city, distances traveled by plane, hotel rooms -- he discovered the places and ways that he could be truly alone. He had good reason, Fujitaka told himself. He needed to concentrate if he was working on a submission for an academic journal, or working a delicate archeological dig. He couldn't be distracted by a woman less substantial than his memory of her. In his memory, Nadeshiko laughed with him, fought with him, had times when she was angry with him. She pouted; she teased. She had days, certain days of the month that he could predict, and even kept track of, when she cried easily. This spirit that followed him haunted him gently with only a smile, a thin, blissful, ghostly smile.

She was present, but she wasn't real.

Fujitaka packed his bag neatly, though quickly. He surreptitiously checked the airline tickets, smiled briefly when he thought of the one who would ask for the window seat. He would carry the small velvet box on his person, rather than packing it and trusting its contents to airline cargo. His formal suit was at the dry cleaners, waiting to be picked up on his way to the airport. He shut the lid of his suitcase and zippered it closed, and he picked up his glasses again.

Nadeshiko's ghost drifted close to him. She stood at his shoulder; her arms reached around his; he saw the waves of her hair sway forward, but did not feel the brush of them against his arm. The delicate fingers of her left hand passed over his left hand. He should have felt their fingertips touch the paler area where his wedding band had until recently been, but there was nothing. The awareness of her presence was not even a tingle. He turned in her arms. Though they faced each other, Fujitaka could not look into her eyes, and he closed his as she moved forward to kiss him. He kept his eyes closed while he reached behind him for the handle of the suitcase, and kept them closed as he stepped forward, passing through his late wife's ghost.

When he opened his eyes after a few steps, Nadeshiko was beside him again, though not blocking his way through the doorway. She gestured to his cheeks, and shook her head. Her smile parted as she mouthed the words, _you promised_.

There was nothing to say. _These are not for you, Nadeshiko,_ Fujitaka thought to himself. Then he turned away from the past and headed out the door, to his future.

~*~*~*~

  


**Author's Note:**

> Title: Blythe Spirit  
> Topic: Silence  
> Canon: manga  
> Length: 743 words  
> Genre: optomistic angst?
> 
>  
> 
> In case you don't remember: Fujitaka promised Nadeshiko that he would not cry for her.


End file.
